


Changing Winds

by anthologia



Series: Ornithological Notes on the Gotham-Dwelling Robins [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Nightwing (Comics), Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Angst, Bittersweet Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Psychological Torture, Psychological Trauma, Robincest, Threesome - F/M/M, it's dark but not AS dark as that sounds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:10:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6744535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anthologia/pseuds/anthologia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t.” She can’t breathe. Jason’s fingers are curled around the handle of the knife, and he gives it a twist, shoving it a little bit further into her stomach. “I don’t understand.”</p><p>“You had to see this coming, Pretender.” His eyes are vivid green. Lazarus green. “Isn’t putting this shit together supposed to be what you’re good at?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Changing Winds

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "Please don't do this", Jason/Dick/Tim.

“I don’t.” She can’t breathe. Jason’s fingers are curled around the handle of the knife, and he gives it a twist, shoving it a little bit further into her stomach. “I don’t understand.”

“You had to see this coming, Pretender.” His eyes are vivid green. Lazarus green. “Isn’t putting this shit together supposed to be what you’re good at?” When he finally lets go, she puts pressure on the wound, fingers splaying around the blade. “Weren’t you supposed to be the better Robin?”

“Please,” Tim whispers.

He snorts. “That’s pathetic. _You’re_ pathetic.”

She tries to take a step back and stumbles, off-balance. The blood loss is making her dizzy.

“ _Please_ ,” Jason repeats, mocking. “Christ. Do you think _I_ begged when the Joker beat me to death?”

She starts to fall again, but this time someone catches her from behind, strong arms lowering her to the ground and easing her descent. “Don’t you think that’s a bit harsh, Little Wing?” Dick asks mildly. His mouth is right next to her ear but the sound is distorted, like she’s hearing him from underwater.

“Oh, please.” Jason narrows his eyes _(Joker green)_ at Dick. “Don’t tell me you feel sorry for her.”

“Sure.” Dick lays her head against the hard ground and lets go of her, straightening up again. “Who wouldn’t? I pity her. Always have.”

Tim has to blink against the tears building up in her eyes, blurring her vision. “Dick, _please_ – “

“Come on, Tim. You’re a smart girl. You know no one ever wanted you.” Dick nudges her with his foot, almost playful. “Even _I_ dumped you for Damian as soon as I could. What made you think this time was different?”

She opens her mouth, but no words come out. Just a voiceless plea.

“The sooner you accept that, the sooner it’ll stop hurting,” Dick says, not unkindly.

Her eyes slide shut, blocking out the image of the two of them looming over her.

“That’s it, Tim.” His voice is faint now, far away. “Now you’re getting it.”

 

She jerks awake with a gasp in her bed. The room is bright with sunlight, not clouded and dark _(nightmare it had to be a nightmare),_ and she presses her hand against her stomach, feeling for the lack of wound that would prove everything’s okay, but her fingers scrape against a bandage taped into place over her abdomen. _(No.)_ When she jerks her hand away, she sees an IV taped to her arm. _(No, no, no.)_

Jason’s in the room with her, dozed off on a chair a few feet away. It’s easy to pull the IV out quietly, but she’s hooked up to other equipment, monitoring equipment, and those are harder to get out of without setting off anything. The unhappy beeping the machine gives is loud enough to wake him up. Panicking, she rips everything off at once and practically vaults out of bed, diving for the door –

– Where she smacks directly into Dick. His arms wrap around her immediately, pulling her up against his chest. She struggles against the hold, but either he’s too strong or she’s not strong enough.

“Tim! It’s okay, it’s _me_. It’s Dick,” he says, like she doesn’t _know_ that. Like she isn’t _painfully_ aware of who has her caged in his arms. “You’re _safe_ , sweetheart, okay?”

 _Safe_. She giggles, the sound abnormally high and a little unhinged even to her ears.

She can hear Jason’s footsteps coming closer, somewhere behind her “She with us this time?”

“I don’t know.” Dick adjusts his hold on her until he has a hand free to tilt her head upwards. “Tim, honey, can you look at me?”

She stares up at him, trying for a defiant gaze but probably only managing lost. _(Pitiful.)_

He gives her a smile that’s so kind and gentle that it feels like another stab in her gut. “Hi, there. How’re you feeling?” He changes his hold again, shifting from keeping her in place against him to helping her support her weight. “Why don’t we get you back to your bed?”

“Why are you…” _Why are you pretending to be nice to me?_ The few words she can manage come out hoarse, and she has to stop, surprised by how much her throat hurts just trying to talk.

“Why are we what, Pretty Bird?” He guides her slowly back to the bed, where Jason is setting up a new, clean IV line. Once she’s settled onto the mattress, he tries to re-insert it, and she flinches away.

“It’ll only pinch for a second,” Jason says, his eyes _(ocean blue)_ looking at her with gentle concern. “Okay, Babybird?”

She wants to ask again, _why?_ but the best she can manage is a croaking noise. Dick presses a cup of water to her lips, and she lets him tip some into her mouth and swallows automatically. It doesn’t help much.

“Your voice may hurt for a little while,” Dick says, as he sets the cup aside. “You were screaming a lot.”

She barely notices the prick of the needle being inserted because _when was she screaming?_ The longer this goes on, the less certain she feels of anything.

Jason tries to rest a hand on her shoulder, but she flinches again. “You don’t remember what happened, do you?”

She thought she did. Now she’s not so sure. Her memories are… confused, not nearly as clear as they felt a little while ago.

“You were fighting Crane. He got you in the stomach with something, laced it with fear toxin.” He rests his hand on top of hers instead, squeezing lightly. She half-expects it to hurt, to feel her bones breaking, but his touch stays soft. “You’ve been pretty out of it for a couple days.”

She _wants_ to believe it’s true. She does. She can’t stop herself from instinctively looking to Dick, asking him silently to tell her that this is real.

Maybe he doesn’t know exactly what she’s asking, but the way he pulls her close again, tucked in close against his side, is a pretty good answer in itself. She can’t bring herself to believe in it wholeheartedly, but – fear toxin makes logical sense, more so than Jason suddenly backsliding or Dick standing by and letting her bleed out. “It’s over,” he murmurs. “You’re okay now.”

And she’s _not_ , she’s not okay, but maybe. She’ll have to wait and see.

**Author's Note:**

> If you are interested in my fics and want more, I have an account at syntactition.tumblr.com where I have bits of stories that are currently in the works and other ficlets and stories that haven't made their way to AO3.


End file.
